


first impressions (are worth a second glance)

by Syntax_of_Aberrations



Category: The Sound of Music - Rodgers/Hammerstein/Lindsay & Crouse
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntax_of_Aberrations/pseuds/Syntax_of_Aberrations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would be respectful and return it to this girl named Liesl or die trying. Why did it sound like dying was the better option?</p>
            </blockquote>





	first impressions (are worth a second glance)

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a song from First Date the musical.

Rolf fished a shirt out of the tangled mess inside the dryer, sighing and routinely shoving it into his laundry bag. He had a paper to write for his Ancient World Literature class; but going to the Starbucks just off campus and trying and failing to get the nerve to talk to the pretty, rich freshman with the dark hair would be—

Speaking of girls.

From the back of the dryer, Rolf brought a bra, with the word _Liesl_ written in Sharpe on the inside, into the light of the laundry room.  Somehow, the logic in his brain still worked, and he realized a girl apparently named Liesl had left her...  But it didn't make it any less embarrassing or confusing or— enticing.

As soon as he realized where his nineteen-year-old brain (or not necessarily his brain) was headed, he shoved the bra underneath his own clothes in the laundry bag, pointedly heaping socks and shirts and whatnot over it so there would be no questions asked.  He was better than that.  He _should_ be better than that.  He would... try, to be better than that.

oOo

He would be respectful and return "The Bra" to this girl named Liesl or die trying.

Why did it sound like dying was the better option?

Rolf opened the door to her hall and went in before he could terrify himself even further; his backpack, usually crammed with books and his laptop and such, was now empty aside from "The Bra", and bounced awkwardly against his shoulders.  The hallway thankfully was devoid of its occupants, but it took a little while for Rolf to find a door marked _Theresa_ and _Liesl_ , and even longer for him to knock.

The pretty, rich freshman with the dark hair from Starbucks opened the door.  "Hi."

"...hi, are you Liesl?"  There was no one else in the room.   _Please don't be her, the gods of irony are sabotaging me if this is her_ —

"Yes, I am.  Can I help you with something?"

Rolf swallowed.  "Um.  You— left some of your laundry in the dryer yesterday, and..."  He didn't have the courage to finish.

"I did?"  Her brow furrowed prettily.  "I don't remember missing anyth—"  Then her eyes widened.  "Oh.   _Oh_.  I... I have a suspicion about.... what I is I left.  Oh dear."  She smiled halfheartedly, and her light eyes darted up to meet Rolf's own and then darted away.  "Um."

"I, uh, I have it—" he couldn't bring himself to say "The Bra" to her face "—here in my backpack—"

Liesl looked slightly horrified.  "You brought it?"

"Yes?  Since it's yours, you know, I thought I would return it.  It seems like the right thing to do."

"Well, thanks, but— this is, like, out in the _open_ , _anyone_ could see."

Rolf checked the hallway.  "The hall's clear right now.  If we make this quick then no one has to know."

Liesl smiled.  "Good grief, it feels like we're dealing drugs or something.  Okay.  We can do this."

He took off his backpack and unzipped the largest compartment to reveal "The Bra" buried deep within.  She hastily grabbed it and then flung it haphazardly within her small closet, closing it with a loud clatter.  "That's not where I normally keep things like that but it doesn't matter," she commented as she returned to the door.  Rolf found himself wondering where she did keep things like that— _focus_.

Liesl tucked a bit of hair behind her ear.  "Well."

"Well."

"Thank you, for bringing it over," she said, awkwardly yet earnestly.  "Most guys would have kept it, you know, and done who knows what."  Her eyes widened at the implication, and she scrambled to recover: "I didn't mean—"

"That's okay, I get it."  It was really time to move on to a different subject.  "I couldn't help but notice—" _you could have helped it_ "—why did you write your name on... it?"

"I have a really large family, and laundry's always crazy at our house.  So we have to write our name on our clothes to keep track of it all."

"Oh.  That kind of makes sense."

"Yeah."

They settled into an awkward lull, and Rolf struggled for a way out.  "So.  I'm Rolf, by the way."

Liesl smiled.  "It's nice to meet you, Rolf, although I wish it could have been under been circumstances."

"Yeah, me too.  But it's nice to meet you, too, finally."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'finally'?"

Shit.  "I— I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did.  You said, 'it's nice to meet you, finally'.  What does that mean?"

He had to leave, now.  "Uh, it doesn't mean anything.  I actually have a class I have to run to, so... bye."  He turned and fled before she learned he watched her at Starbucks.

He really needed a new hobby.


End file.
